Tag
by Ashplosion
Summary: "A simple signature for a beautiful work. A circle in black, with a cross in red. The sign for coda. This is your coda, isn't it?" Someone's in love with Tori... and signing their graffiti love notes with codas.
1. I

**Author's notes:** Typically, I'm not the author who begs for reviews. However, this story is so... different... that I'm not sure about it. I love the idea, but I don't know if I should continue or not. For once, the reviews will determine that. Whether you think it's good or you think it sucks, let me know.

* * *

The rattle of the can reverberates in your soul. The fumes are choking you, but you are determined to finish. You replace the bandana over your face and tighten the Velcro of the gloves over your wrists. A soaring song washes through your ears as you tuck your headphones deeper into your hair.

"Red," you murmur to yourself. A soft curve, perfectly formed lips. Spray paint on your glove. You start to sing quietly to yourself. The song that inspired this—a song you should sing her. Where's the brown paint?

Car lights sweep over you and you dart around the corner. Probably just a drug dealer. No one cared enough to stop. Your stomach tightens. You aren't sure if you're more afraid of getting caught, or if you're terrified of her seeing it in the morning. It is on her way to school, after all.

Okay, you aren't afraid of cops. You are petrified of that girl seeing herself on the wall of this warehouse. But oh god… do you want it. It's what drives you to keep going. You reach into your bag and finally locate the brown paint. Beautiful eyes slowly start to form in front of you, and you step back.

Your breath is taken away.

You hope it sets a fire in her soul.

The slope of her jaw line starts to form on the wall. You toss the spent can into a nearby garbage can and dig through your bag. Tan. You're tired, but you shake the can anyway and keep going. Thinner lines blend with thicker ones, lighter brown with darker brown, and it looks like hair is sweeping over her face. It's beautiful. You don't hear the creeping of the oncoming car.

"Hey there," you hear suddenly, and it makes you jump. You accidentally squirt tan paint on your right glove and pull out your left headphone. "I had no idea you were such a talented graffiti artist." Great. This isn't going to go well. You cast a forlorn look at the wall and hang your head.

"Hey, it's okay," he says soothingly. You recap the can in your hand and put it by your bag. You drop the bandana covering your face as you slowly walk to him, hands extended. "It looks a lot better than the gang graffiti over half the city. Why are you painting her, anyway?"

You don't say anything, but you do look away. He smiles wryly and rifles through your bag. "Tori's cheeks are more this color," he states. Your eyes widen. "I'm not busting you. I might've done something like this when I fell in love with her mom." You try to think of something to say. "I didn't have this talent. She looks amazing."

"How did you know?" He looks at you as if you were a small child. You can tell he's trying not to patronize you, but it's such a silly question to him that he can't help it.

"I painted her mother's name on her dorm building in college. Besides… we've seen the way you look at her. You put up a good act of not being in love, but we can see right through you." You nod dumbly.

"I'm afraid."

"You aren't afraid of me, a cop with a gun and cuffs, but you're afraid of telling Tori you're gay?"

"Pretty much."

"I see. I guess I don't understand it, since I'm straight. But this is something you'll need to discuss with her at some point. Especially since three-quarters of my daughter's face is on this wall now." You stare hard at the paint smear on your glove.

"Officer Vega… please don't tell her I am the one who did this. I plan to sign it with a musical symbol, and that's it."

"Your secret is safe with me, but you really need to discuss it with Tori. Lucky for you, I parked so the dash cam can't see this."

"You aren't angry that Tori's on a building?"

"Tori's been on national television," he says simply. "This is nothing." You swipe stray hair out of your face and think. "Just stay safe. I'd hate to see such a good girl get hurt," he cautions before heading back to the car. You nod and pick my can up. You need to finish this.

An hour later, you're done. A 10-foot Tori Vega smiles at you from the wall. A simple signature for a beautiful work. A circle in black, with a cross in red. The sign for coda. This is your coda, isn't it?


	2. II

Hollywood Arts was completely abuzz the next morning. Tori had been mobbed by students like a celebrity fighting of paparazzi. "Did you paint it?"

"No!"

"Who did?"

"I don't know!"

"Do you think it's a love note?" You smiled at that—well, that question was oddly specific. It was also accurate.

"I don't know," she responds, clearly bewildered. "I didn't know anyone was in love with me. I mean, I really like it a lot. It's a creative way to say you love me, but… why didn't he sign it?" Your heart sank. "I mean, how do I know if I love him back if I don't know who he is."

"Maybe he's just too shy to say something to you," André offers. She looks at him and smiles. Your heart sinks further. If she thinks it's André, you'll never forgive yourself for that coda.

"Aww, is it you, André?"

"Sorry Tor, it's not me." She frowns, and her brow creases.

"Who could it be?" The question hangs in the air as the bell rings and you all slog off to your classes.

You manage to make it through most of the day without getting crushed again, but then you see her in the bathroom and she's humming to herself. You think you recognize the tune.

"Oh hey! What's up?" You shrug in a nonchalant manner that's a little out of place for you.

"Using the restroom?" It comes out more of a question than an answer. "You're getting a lot of attention today."

"I know, it's crazy! Did you see the picture of me painted on the warehouse?" Did you see it? Of course you did. "Some guy painted like, a ten-foot portrait of me and didn't sign it with anything but a coda. No one has any idea who it was!" No one but you and Officer Vega.

"Who says it was a guy?" you ask in an effort to buoy your soul. She looks at you with wide eyes. You know you're acting out of character, but to try and save face, you tack on, "maybe you have a crazed fan. You remember what that crazy girl did to the iCarly crew." She laughs nervously and then her eyes darken.

"You think…?" but you've already left the bathroom before she can figure out it was you.

* * *

This has to come to a conclusion. You're waiting outside the Vega residence for him, just so you can talk to him about his daughter and how you want to graffiti her face all over Hollywood. Soon enough, he comes walking outside to head to the police station. "Officer Vega!" He turns.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"I'm doing it again. Tonight. My message apparently went over her head."

"You need to talk to her," he warns again. "There may be something you don't know about her." You look at him curiously, but he doesn't elaborate. Without another word, you take off, and this time, you plant your creative seed a little closer to Hollywood Arts.

Four and a half hours later, you have two Toris, one at a three-quarter angle, with the other looking dead on at you and emerging from the first Tori's hair. You sign this time, "Love," before the coda symbol. Your "Love" has such flowing, beautiful script that it couldn't be denied it belonged to a woman. And this time, you'd make damn sure she knew you were her coda.

* * *

**A/N:** I like this fic. It's fun to write, it's short, and it features Tori's dad. It's unique (but there was an inspiration behind it). Listen to "Every Subway Car" by Barenaked Ladies. It's the inspiration between here and some random graffiti (cough) in Dayton, Ohio.


	3. III

Tori Vega is standing face-to-face with you in the janitor's closet. You can't run; she's blocking the door with a crazy forcefulness. "Tell me what you know about the graffiti artist!" You look away, as if it were obvious. Maybe that last painting was a bad idea.

"What do they mean? Who is he?"

"Who do you think Coda is?"

"What are you saying, Jade?"

"What do you think I'm saying," you sneer. Tori's eyes narrowed darkly. "I'm saying I'm in love with you." You take a tentative step toward her, and her eyes widen.

"How did you find out?" she asks. And for once, you are completely confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"Who told you I'm bisexual? I can't think of any other reason you'd mock me like this!"

Woah. Wait. Pause. Is this what her father was trying to tell you?

"You're WHAT?" Your eyes lock for a minute, and then she looks away. Well, the cat's out of the bag now. Actually, she's at her locker, but you get your own drift. Right?

"Nothing."

"Tori Vega, you will repeat what you just said to me if you ever want to find out who Coda is and why she's spraying your face all over Hollywood."

"I'm bisexual. And I'm furious that you're mocking my sexual orientation like this!" Your anger gets the better of you, and you pin her to the wall.

"Mocking you? You think I'm mocking you? Since WHEN have you ever known me to mock someone on the basis of sexual orientation, Vega?" She sputters a moment, unable to answer. "That's what I thought."

"Jade, this is me we're talking about. You'd take a pot shot at me over any little thing I give you that isn't normal! I'm going to kill whoever told you."

"Not normal…?" God, she's such an idiot, and it's making you mad. "Who the hell are you to say being bisexual isn't normal?"

"I'm the bisexual one! You'd think I'd know better than you!" Can she not tell the difference between anger and hurt in your eyes?

"Here's a newsflash, Vega… half of Hollywood Arts isn't what you call 'normal.'"

Her eyes narrow to slits. "What are you saying, Jade?"

"I'm saying you aren't the only gay or bi person at this school. You aren't even the only gay or bi person in this room. I'm saying Coda decided that this was a beautiful way to let you know she loves you, and you're really, really pissing her off right now." You let her go and move to storm out of the closet, wounded, but she catches your wrist.

"Jade, I need you to be perfectly serious with me right now," she starts, but you cut her off.

"I am, and you still think this is some sort of a sick joke. Leave me alone, Tori." You don't even try to mask the hurt in your voice. Wait, why are you still in this closet?

She jerks you back roughly and slams the door. You aren't scared by the bewildered look on her face; you're scared of being made a complete fool of right now. You try to push her away, but she pins you to the door this time and stares into your eyes. "Jade, you are Coda." You nod and try to look away, but she arrests your chin and forces you to look at her. "You're telling me yo're in love with me."

"How many times do I have to tell you that? If you want to think it's a sick joke, then by a-"

She's kissing you.

She's kissing you.

She's kissing you.

Somewhere in the back of your head, you hear the lines "warehouses above… all I'm thinking of." And all you can see as the woman you love kisses you is that last mural—a 30 foot portrait of the two of you.

* * *

**A/N:** That was a fun, very out of character piece. I've wanted to do something Jori for a while, though, so... well, we all knew it was Jori. :P


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